nine2five 2,7 LA Story
by Marc Vun Kannon
Summary: The second part of Chuck's & Sarah's LA adventure. And Casey's LA adventure. And Carina's LA adventure.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N **No Steve Martin on roller skates here. So far I've crushed three episodes into two. I'll be adding another one here, with conclusions in each chapter.

* * *

"_You want _me_ to take point?"_

"_I'm guessing this is the missus."_

"_We _need_ the Intersect." _

"_Sorry, Mom."_

* * *

The kidnapping of the manager had made no appreciable difference to the normal daily routine of the Buy More, no surprises there. Traffic was light at that hour, as always. The green shirts still slacked off whenever possible, the Nerd Herders still directed customers away from themselves whenever possible. The only real change was that today they could all claim to have been devastated by the loss of their beloved leader to those Large Mart goons.

When the beautiful blonde walked in the door, she naturally drew the attention of every person there. As far as (most of) the women were concerned, it was simple jealousy. For the men, waiting on her would be the closest they could hope to get to such a hot babe, even though they all knew they had no chance of getting any closer, with a large chance of being told to keep an even greater distance for pretty much the rest of their lives. Most of them suffered in silence. The greater the beauty, the greater the smackdown, and the derision awaiting them in the breakroom would be even more cruel than usual. Only the most clueless, most desperate, or most self-deluded, would dare approach such a person.

Jeff and Lester headed right over. "Good evening, madam," said Lester at his most obsequious. "How may we…service you tonight?"

She smiled at them, something that never happened. They froze, suddenly even more clueless than usual. "Could you gentlemen show me where the Home Theater room is? I really need to get those new sub-woofers I heard about." Her voice got low and growly. "I can't wait to feel those vibrations just go right through me." She touched the skinny one's arm.

"Jeffrey!" shrieked Lester, the pitch of his voice setting dogs barking for a block around. He pulled away from her, trying to mask the fear with a swift adjustment to his tie. He brushed greasy hair from his eyes. "Jeffrey, my good fellow," he continued as his smarmiest. "Let us show this fine lady to her destination, where we may hopefully see to all of her needs."

Jeff had just enough brains to talk and leer at the same time. "And maybe she can see to some of ours."

Lester flung up a hand. "Enough of that," he commanded, adding as an aside, "Or at least save it for the install. This fine young woman is obviously cut from different cloth." He turned back to his client. "Please pay no attention to my associate, ma'am, when Bennigans is closed he doesn't know what he's saying." He made a sweeping gesture, pushing Jeff out of the way as he indicated the lady's destination. "Your Home Theater awaits."

She sauntered past and they hung back as they followed her, admiring the view. The rest of the crew watched in stunned amazement, that any woman would allow herself to occupy a confined space with Jeff and Lester at the same time.

"Jeffrey," said Lester, "Draw those pesky curtains while I help this woman with those vibrations."

Jeff frantically fumbled his way through the complex process of drawing the blinds closed, finishing just in time to hear Lester exclaim, "You're so pretty!" He turned and she was right there, injection gun in hand, a newer model than his own. When the needle went in and she pulled the trigger, he knew he'd found his perfect woman. Hopefully she'd still be there when he woke up.

* * *

Carina sat at the table, hands around a mug of coffee, a far cry from her usual cafe latte with its twist of lemon. "This looks so much easier on TV." At least they had Sweet 'n' Low. When the last suspect, Josie, suddenly broke down in front of them during her interview, Carina was convinced it was a psy-ops ploy until Hannah found the pregnancy test stick in her bag. Then it was break time, as fast as possible.

For them, that is. Lewis had fled the break room as fast as they'd appeared.

"Lucky for you Sarah's trying to get to the airport. At this time of day it'll be a while before she gets back here." Hannah sat across from her, smearing cream cheese on a day-old onion bagel she'd just rehabilitated in the microwave. All the fresh ones were upstairs." Everything looks easy on TV. Unless it's a subject you know, and then it just looks stupid."

Her boyfriend snickered. "Just talk to any elevator man about Die Hard."

"I like Die Hard!" said the AIC, not his fiancée for once.

"Well, duh," he agreed, sort of. "Everybody likes Die Hard. But the tech isn't what you might call realistic."

"At least there's tech," grumbled Carina. "On crime shows all you ever see is somebody being brilliant. That's not exactly a learnable skill."

"Being brilliant like Sherlock, no," said Hannah, seeing what Sarah meant by 'bold front'. "Being brilliant like _Carina_, definitely right up your alley."

"According to Sarah, my skill set is making hash of someone else's plans."

"Which sounds good to me," said the boyfriend, who was cute and taken, dammit. "Since our murderer has a plan we'd like to see hashed."

"Unless this was a one-off," said Hannah, just because. "And poor Brody was killed simply for being too nice and friendly."

No one believed that, especially not Carina. Not even Casey would kill over that. Unless Brody simply wouldn't leave him alone. _Hmm, alone._ "Maybe he wasn't killed for being Brody, maybe he was killed for being _there_."

"In a hall?" That's where all the blood was.

"In a hall," said Carina. "Where someone else was, and Brody, being Brody, couldn't help but stop and stick his nose where the killer didn't want it."

"So you're thinking this was a crime of oppor–"

Something outside made a very loud noise, and all the lights went out.

* * *

The floor shook, making the louvers dance. The blonde agent listened carefully, but no one outside the Home Theater room seemed to notice, or care if they did. Californians. Still, the wise agent recognizes when opportunity is knocking.

The gun went back into her bag and a smoke grenade came out, ready to do its noxious worst. She opened the door to the room, unnoticed by all who had no desire to see anything Jeff and Lester might be up to. The grenade fell to the floor but the tab didn't, and as the smoke started to emerge she pulled the fire alarm and shut the door.  
Five minutes later she walked through the empty store and tripped the locks, killing the alarms. If she let them run much longer, even emergency services might sit up and take notice. She pulled a phone from her pocket. "We're secure."

* * *

Chuck grabbed at Sarah's phone when the emergency signal went off. At the moment she was trying to drive them across the city at rush hour, so she really didn't need the distraction. Even a road-clearing missile wouldn't have helped, since she'd have used it by now. At least the pedestrians were in no danger , since the car was slightly wider than the sidewalks.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Fire and seismic sensors were tripped," he reported.

"An earthquake?" In an underground base.

"Checking." He tapped into the USGS data feed, but it didn't show any recent activity in that area. "Not seeing one." He tried the phone. "Not connecting."

"They're in lockdown. Try the secure link."

"Why are they in lockdown?" He tried the secure link. "Either it's an even more secure link than you thought, or the connection is broken. End result's the same either way." He waited a second, but she didn't say anything. "Why are they in lockdown?"

"A death in the family. Carina's investigating."

Three different snide remarks popped into his head, but he suppressed them all. "_Carina's_ solving this?"

She willed her frown his way, since she couldn't exactly frown at him. "You think she can't?"

Chuck smiled and said, "Absolutely I do", because he was smart.

"Good," said Sarah. "Because she can and she will."

* * *

Carina held a napkin to her mouth, to avoid choking on all the dust in the air. "You check on your team. I have to go check on my prisoner." She also had to check on the armory, and make sure no one had tried to get in since she'd sealed it, but pointing that out would have been rude.

The cell block seemed undisturbed. Frost stood by the door, but out of curiosity rather than panic. The view from Castle's cell-block was much better than the one in DC.

"Are you all right?" asked Carina.

"Are you kidding?" said Frost. "This is the sturdiest place in the base. I'm safer than you are."

"Rub it in, why don't you?" Carina drew her gun, the only one not secured, and took aim. Frost raised her hands. Carina hit the switch, and the door opened. She hit it again, putting her gun away after it closed. "Good. At least I can get you out of there, in case there are any more aftershocks."

Frost shook her head. "That wasn't an earthquake, Agent Miller. That was a bomb."

* * *

Jets move faster than cars, despite Sarah's best efforts. The plane was on the ground and braking before she found a gate to ram the car through. The CIA was going to have to buy the rental company a new one anyway. The facility was small, but it was also after dark and she didn't know the layout. Mainly she tried to find a path in the general direction the plane had been taking before they lost sight of it. Not only was this stupid rental slower than her beloved Porsche, it was also higher off the ground, and she didn't want to chance hitting anything.

The sounds died away on both sides of one hangar, the jet coming to a halt on one side, their car on the other. Sarah didn't even bother telling Chuck to stay in the car. Between the Intersect and his tranq pistol he was almost more effective than she was with her regular pistol, more so if she factored captured prisoners versus dead bodies into the equation.

Light and sound were on their side, as they skulked around the side of the hangar in complete silence. Out on the field some people dressed as airport employees were moving boxes, and the plane had to have more guards inside it. Sure enough, once the plane came to a complete stop the door opened, and people carrying guns poured out onto the field.

Chuck lifted the side view mirror he'd pulled off of what was left of their car, and checked around the corner. "There's five guys, Sarah. We're outmanned and outgunned."

Sarah checked the glass. "Five guys?" she snorted in derision. "Five idiots. You could take them yourself."

"Idiots with machine guns."

"Look how they're holding them, Chuck. Look how they're standing. They've lined themselves up to be shot, while holding their guns as if they were movie props." Movement drew her eye, but it was just the wands of the field controller.

Wait a minute. The plane was stopped. Why was the field controller even there? And where were the two stevedores?

The two 'airport employees' leapt up from concealment and started shooting, their little handguns taking out three of the guards before the other two could get their larger guns pointing the right way. Their targets didn't wait for this, ducking and rolling to new cover, opening fire before the last guards could reacquire their targets. In seconds five men were down, their primary frozen in the doorway of the plane.

"Holy crap!" said Chuck, "Those two are like Terminators, they just took out five guys in the blink of an eye."

The field controller moved behind his men. "Welcome to America, Mr. Pichushkin!"

Chuck stuck his head out to peer around the corner. "That's Casey's voice."

Sarah traded places. "What's _he_ doing here?"

The man continued down the steps, approaching Casey and his team–his _team_?–with one arm up. The other held a silver case.

"Let me take your luggage," sneered Casey.

The arms dealer knelt, putting the case on the ground. "It's yours." He opened it.

"What the hell? Chuck!" said Sarah, pointing. "They're flashing!"

Chuck looked at Casey's team. "They're what?"

"Flashing!" Sarah fiddled with her watch, looking for their frequency. "They're Intersects too."

"Is that really what I look like?"

"Oh my god. I just heard them say 'fission' and 'fireball'."

Chuck wasn't on the network but there was nothing wrong with his hearing. "I just heard Casey say 'suitcase nuke'."

Dragan had taken advantage of everyone's shock to reach a hand inside his coat. "You have bomb. I have detonator. I think it's best we part ways, yes?"

Sarah didn't like the look of those guns pointed Dragan's way, far too steady for her taste. Dunwoody's reputation around the office was none too positive, and if the other one was anything like her…"Casey, let him go! I've got eyes on Dragan," she said into her mike.

Casey didn't flinch, didn't move, didn't acknowledge that he'd heard her in any way. "You can't run far enough, or fast enough," he said to Dragan.

The Russian turned and ran. Sarah ran to cut him off.

"Sir," said Dunwoody, seeing the glory slip through her fingers once again, "Agent Walker isn't supposed to be here!"

"Then I'll let you explain that to Agent _Bartowski_ when you help her catch the bad guy, Captain. Go." He dismissed her from his attention. "Captain Noble, I need you to disarm this, now."

Noble knelt before the case, gingerly moving components, futilely searching for any matching data in the Intersect. "This thing is a Frankenstein, sir. There's nothing in the Intersect about how to disarm this."

Casey lifted his watch, resetting the frequency. If Sarah was in LA, it stood to reason Chuck would be on overwatch. "Eagle-Eye, are you on line?"

"No, Colonel, I'm at your five, twenty meters."

Casey turned around. "Then get over here, numbskull." When Chuck got within grabbing distance Casey grabbed him, pushing him to his knees. "Fix that."

"Ho, ha," said Chuck, staring into the case. "I don't know anything about disarming suitcase nukes."

* * *

Captain Victoria Dunwoody ran up behind the Russian, going toe-to-toe with Agent Walker. _That's right, Walker. You just stand there while I take him down._ She flashed.

"No! Don't!" shouted Sarah.

Jealous Victoria said _He's mine_, Professional Victoria said _I'm trying._ Neither of them knew how to stop the flash.

* * *

Gunfire sounded in the distance.

The numbers on the readout started counting down. "I don't know anything about disarming _live_ suitcase nukes," said Chuck.

Casey raised his watch. "What the hell happened, Bartowski?"

"Your toy soldier just shot the detonator!"

"Explain that later. Get back here now!" said Casey. He turned to Chuck. "Now would be a good time to get started."

"You know I don't have the Intersect, right?"

"Well she does, and it's not helping," growled Casey. "But you were smart long before you ever got that damn program, Bartowski. Hopefully smart enough."

Chuck looked up at the tall woman. "You have the Intersect?"

Captain Noble nodded.

"Then what are you doing all the way up there? Get down here, Greta, I need an Intersect."

"My will call me Captain Noble."

"Get down here, Captain Noble, I need an Intersect."

It occurred to her to lose. For once. "Yes, sir," she said, getting back down on her knees.

Chuck flashed on his bomb-disarming skills, lifting out the primary device. "We're going to have to improvise our way through this one."

"Improvise?" said Noble, as if he'd just insulted her. "It's a nuclear bomb!"

Casey exercised his command authority. "Stow it, Captain."

Chuck held out the bomb. Captain Noble, using the same program, knew what she had to do next, and removed the detonator from the top. "All right, Captain," said Chuck, "What do you see?"

Noble flashed. "This detonator comes from a next-gen Chinese nuclear sub."

"A submarine?" repeated Chuck. She stared at him. "Right. A submarine. Let's use that."

"The only way a submarine would help us now is if it was carrying this bomb as far out to sea as possible."

"Right!" said Chuck excitedly, as if she'd said something brilliant. "Subs deploy in salt water! In case of a hull breach, these things have to have safeties to keep them from going off. We just need some salt water to deactivate it."

"We're miles inland," said Noble. "Where do you plan to find some salt water in an airport?"

Chuck had been very conscious of the answer to that question for a while now, but one doesn't put a race to the rescue on hold for a potty break. "Um…well…" He stood up, fumbling with his zipper. "You might want to turn your back for this part."

* * *

**A/N2 **The obvious solution. Many fanfictions have pointed it out. Too bad TV shows have to be more delicate.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N **This is supposed to be a happy occasion. Let's not bicker and argue over who killed who.

* * *

"_This looks so much easier on TV."_

"_We're secure."_

"_They're flashing!" _

"_You might want to turn your back for this part."_

* * *

Most of the dust had settled by the time Carina approached ground zero. The smell of the explosives was stronger though. Carina stumbled over the rubble in her not-so-sensible shoes. "Hannah! What have we got?"

The dust made the other woman look older. "Briefing room two is wrecked. If we hadn't bailed on Josie's interview we'd have been in there. Damian's injured, but he's the only one."

"Good for us." Carina looked in the room. The table and their chairs were embedded in the wall. Josie's chair, parts of it anyway, were in the ceiling. "Better for her."

"That's one less we need to worry about, at least."

"Not necessarily," said Carina. "She could have planted the bomb as we left, to make it look like she was innocent."

Josie was psy-ops, so the theory couldn't be dismissed outright, but she wasn't a technical specialist. "I'm not hearing the ring of true belief in your voice."

Carina shrugged. "Didn't say I believed it, just that it was possible." Especially if she used her talents at manipulation to get someone else to make the bomb. "What happened to Damian?"

Hannah led the way to some blood spots in the hall. "Caught a piece of the doorframe in his leg."

"Conscious?"

Hannah nodded, wiping dusty hands on dusty pants. "Noisy, too. We found him pulling it out. Took more guts than _I'd_ have, that's for sure. I had the guys take him to the infirmary to get him bandaged up. They're good at _that_, at least."

Carina looked around at the walls, the ceiling. "From the ring of true belief in your voice, I'm guessing you don't think either of them did this?"

Hannah sighed, taking advantage of the fact that the security in this hallway, at least, wasn't working at the moment. "They're getting better, but..."

That sigh went pretty far down. "But what?"

"Name it."

"Pass." She had bigger things to think about, like how the hell she was going to get any groveling out of Sarah after _this_ fiasco. "Well, all things considered, I guess I'll make an exception and go to the man than rather than make him come to me."

"The infirmary?"

"Yeah."

No way it was going to be that simple. "What do we do?"

"I'm glad you asked that…"

* * *

"He _what?_"

Casey wasn't big on repeating himself, especially not now. "He peed on it, ma'am. Mr. Bartowski determined that the bomb would deactivate in salt water, and human urine is a pretty close match."

"I'm aware of that, Colonel."

"I consider it a typical display of his resourcefulness, initiative, and personal courage." _And I will so note in my report._

"Yes, thank you, Colonel." The phone developed a layer of ice.

Casey was just warming up. "Especially considering he was not in possession of the Intersect at the time–"

"_Enough_, Colonel Casey." He could hear her fingernails drumming. "You will have to report this to General Beckman."

"Technically, no, ma'am. I have to report an overlap to you, and you would have to report it to her." And he would love to be there when she did, but it wasn't going to happen. Colonel Casey knew his duty, and it wasn't to Director Bentley. "In this case, however, I do believe it would be best to seize the high ground." Better if Beckman heard it from him than from Bentley, or even from Chuck.

"What 'high ground' would that be? My Gretas couldn't have failed more completely if they'd tried."

Casey eyed his two subordinates, to all appearances relaxed at parade rest, but he knew better. They weren't privy to her side of this conversation but they didn't have to be. "In my opinion, Captains Noble and Dunwoody performed exactly as required."

"They killed the man they were supposed to capture, and almost destroyed the city." She could, and would, argue that they didn't have a normal breaking-in period. Pichushkin's bomb wasn't on anyone's radar, so they had a reasonable expectation of some kind of shakedown cruise, at least. They had zero chance of a do-over now, not with this on their record.

"No, ma'am, the Intersect did that. Captain Dunwoody has already reported that she was unable to stop the Intersect from taking those shots, and having witnessed a number of similar Intersect events of a classified nature I am accepting that report."

"I read that one host almost killed Agent Walker," said Bentley. "I was under the impression that was a glitch in the software."

Agent Carmichael _was_ the glitch, a Frankenstein with a hundred different components. "You are correct, ma'am, but you were only made privy to the program files." Which were heavily redacted or intentionally wrong when it came to identities. With a curt gesture dismissed his Gretas to assist the cleaner teams while continued the briefing. "The problems I'm speaking of were not in the program, but in the men, including Carmichael himself."

No way she'd be able to access the personnel files of a dead Agency hero. "Agent Carmichael was one of our finest." No one could fault her Gretas for not living up to that kind of standard.

_If only she knew._ But she didn't, and he wasn't about to tell her. "Even the finest can have flaws, Director, and the Intersect magnified those flaws. Carmichael was able to overcome them, with time and assistance. Our Gretas had neither."

Time, she thought. And assistance. She needed both. "Bring my Gretas home, Colonel." Let the Bartowski project go on a little longer. _He's going nowhere. _That was the beauty of it.

For once, Casey's reply was less than completely confident. "Well, about that, Director…"

* * *

Chuck drove as fast as he could, but CIA vans are made for stealth, not speed. Castle was still silent, so they needed the transport more than Casey's team did, especially with a cleaner team on the way. "Anything?"

Sarah was in the back, committing a technical violation of the rules by using the equipment while in transit. "Don't you think I would have told you if there was?"

Chuck heard the snap in her voice and chided himself for his insensitivity. With two of her friends in there, and some unknown disaster in the offing, she needed more support. "Don't worry, Sarah. We'll be there soon, and they'll be fine."

Behind him, Agent Walk–_Bartowski_ bared her teeth.

* * *

The loading bay hummed with activity, men and women bustling with purpose, moving heavy boxes full of complicated electronics. Needless to say, these weren't your typical Buy More employees. The only thing these men had in common with that crew was their complete disregard of the crumpled forms of Jeff and Lester, locked in the cage.

The middle of it all, the center of it all, the _purpose_ of it all: Volkoff.

Alexei Volkoff was in California, and he was not happy.

* * *

Carina ran her eyes over the bearded man's prostrated form. He actually looked pretty good from this angle. "Hello, Damian. How's the leg?"

He shifted it, groaning. "It's not going to stop me walking out of this place."

Moving around to the front, she seated herself by him, not quite in his easy field of view. "No, I expect the blast doors will take care of that." She got out her emery board, started filing her nails. "You seem awfully anxious to leave."

He twisted his head around to look at her, exactly as she intended. "Says the beautiful redhead. I got pretty tired of the way people looked at me a long time ago. I'm not even Arabic, I'm Greek!" He shook a hand, and gasped in pain. "I thought in the CIA it would be different, but the first sign of trouble, and I know who everyone's looking at."

"They're looking at the man who's acting like a paranoid nutjob," she muttered.

"It's not paranoia when they really are out to get you," said Damian, dropping his head to the thin mattress.

She looked up at his outburst. "How _did_ you get injured, anyway?"

"I ran into Lewis, coming out of the break room, and I asked him where Josie was. He said she was in Briefing 2 with you, so I went to wait for her."

"_Lewis_ said that?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"He left the break room because all of us were in it, that's why."

* * *

Volkoff strolled through the enemy stronghold, unconcerned.

A CIA base under a strip mall. Brilliant. Lots of strangers in constant motion, goods travelling in and out all day, and if you had to self-destruct the place who would even notice? Oh, it would make the news all right, what doesn't in America, but lose a dog down a well and it'll get bumped to the back pages faster than you can say Vladimir Putin.

And most Americans _couldn't_ say Vladimir Putin. Not correctly, anyway.

Predator's eyes scanned the room, noting the layout of the sensor domes, probable locations of weapon turrets, the very attractive Employee of the Month. Men with scanners roamed the aisles, looking for any and all access panels to the base below. Then his pet nerd came in, and settled naturally behind the Nerd Herd desk. Volkoff recognized its commanding position and occupied it himself. Interesting. From this location, the mirrors let him see everything, yet the manager's office was in the corner. Volkoff knew who really controlled this store, and that person was almost certainly not in the crowd of sheep milling about outside. Americans! One smoke grenade, a bit of yellow tape, and you could do anything you liked for as long as you needed.

Volkoff bent down close to his nerd's ear. "You have one minute. Impress me."

The geek smirked. "You didn't bring me along for my charming personality."

* * *

"All hands on deck," said Carina, striding into the main area. "We need to find Lewis."

Agent #1 put down his cards. "We do? You're trusting us now?"

"I think we can safely say Lewis is our killer. Why else lie to Damian and send him to his death?"

"That's simple," said the other agent, who appeared to specialize in simple. "He wouldn't let that Limey geek touch his boom-box."

"A boom-box?"

"Yeah. It don't play or nothing, 'cause it's full of sand, but he says it's got 'sentimental value'."

"Not much of a motive, if you ask me," said Hannah as she came into the room. "You want to know what_ I_ think?"

Everyone there pulled out a notebook, except Carina, and waited with pencils at the ready.

"I think Brody's death wasn't planned, but he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Following Agent Miller's suggestion, I checked the murder site again, and guess what I found?"

None of the agents said anything. Her fiancé raised a hand. "Bombs?"

"Correct. Quite a few bombs in quite a few places, and Brody probably caught Lewis planting them. And our comm panel is trashed on the inside, which is probably why we haven't heard from Agent Walker."

* * *

"What do you mean, you can't raise them?" growled Volkoff less than a minute later. "How can I threaten them if they can't even hear me?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but all direct communications with Castle are non-functional. They weren't even trying to lock me out of the weapon systems. I don't think they know we're here, sir."

Volkoff spun the man's chair around. "Then I suggest you find me an indirect means of communication. If I have to resort to something messy, I won't miss your charming personality."

* * *

Carina said she should be in front because she had the gun, but Hannah didn't buy it. "You don't like me, do you?"

"Do I have to?" She looked left.

Hannah looked right. "No. I don't need to be friends with everyone I meet, but since you're Sarah's friend I just thought it would be nice for her if we could get along."

"You really don't want to go there. Sarah didn't get the short end of your stick." Although, truth be told, neither had Carina, but old habits die slowly.

"Are you sure? She didn't look so happy to me."

Carina rounded on her 'partner'. "Maybe when you've had your husband kidnapped you'll be an authority on what she should be looking like. Until then–"

"You're very perceptive."

Carina looked around, realizing where she was. _Oh, great._ She turned back to Hannah and stopped her from advancing on the voice. "You do not have clearance to speak to the prisoner."

"We're talking about Sarah, Agent Miller," said Frost. "Nothing sensitive, except possibly yourself."

"We'll go this way," said Carina, pointing back the way they'd come.

"You do know she's dying, don't you?"

Carina wheeled right around and walked into the cell block, not even caring that Hannah was right behind her. Neither of them saw someone else creep slowly up to the corner, listening intently. "Explain yourself."

Frost smiled at Sarah's two besties, united in common purpose. "I'm surprised you didn't notice it, Agent Miller. Maybe it's because I haven't spent as much time with my son's wife as you two have."

Carina noticed Hannah's jaw drop, but had no time to consider the paperwork involved. "Or maybe it's because her husband, your son, was kidnapped by your boss."

"I don't think so," said Frost calmly. "That wasn't her reaction the last time, now was it?"

For a moment Carina was tempted to find out how bulletproof these cell doors really were. "No," she ground out through clenched teeth. "It wasn't."

"The night I allowed you to capture me," said Frost, "She was exposed, wasn't she?"

"Exposed to what?" asked Hannah.

"Need to know, Analyst," replied Frost. "Well?"

Carina couldn't speak, torn between _Allowed to capture–!_ and what she suspected was coming. She nodded sharply, once. "The guy who made it survived."

"The guy who made it is insane, trapped in a nightmare of terror without end. Not much of an improvement, if you ask me. No antidote to his toxin was ever developed, but then I'm sure you know that."

"You said 'dying'." _Please let there still be time._

"I lied," said Frost. "I do that."

Hannah pushed forward, one hand on the thick glass. _Oh my god, Sarah! _"So you recognize the symptoms."

"Oh, yes."

"Why are you telling us this if you work for the bad guys?" asked Hannah, not needing to know who the bad guys were.

"I work for the CIA, in deep cover, and I've spent the last twenty years earning a special place in Hell, trying to satisfy all of my various duties." Frost looked away, down, anywhere but at them. "It seems I have a little bit of a soul left after all."

"Her death would maintain your cover," said Carina. "But if that's so important, why send Chuck after Tuttle in the first place?"

Frost sat.

Carina wasn't falling for it. "Well?"

The older woman blew out a deep, long, tired breath. "Because I need him to know the truth. I'll be needing someone's prayers, someday. Someday _soon_, I think, and I'd like them to be his."

_Which you wouldn't get if you allowed his wife to die._"If he forgives you by then."

Frost just nodded.

Something in the outer hall made a noise. Carina and Hannah raced for the entrance, but nothing was there. Carina raised her radio. "Did you guys hear something?"

"Noise in the air ducts," responded Josie.

"We got 'im, we got 'im," shouted one of the agents, unfortunately paired with each other, but Carina wasn't about to inflict either of them on Josie. A huge rolling clatter sounded, one of the emergency ladders deploying. "Don't move, Limey."

The Limey must not have moved. Silence echoed.

"Report, dammit!" yelled Hannah.

"It's a pig."

* * *

"Sir, I've got something."

Alexei Volkoff looked at the screen, but the rather haphazard collection of names and icons told him nothing. He hated knowing nothing. "What am I looking at?"

"This is the Buy More's network subdomain, its processes and endpoints, rendered graphically."

"Okay then, why am I looking at it?"

"There's a line here–" he pointed to it. "That connects to Castle. We find that and I can open all the doors. You can just waltz right in."

The graphic didn't show the physical location of the Buy More end. "Where is this connection?"

"I don't know where it used to be," said the geek smugly. "But I know where it is." He caressed his keyboard.

_Make it come to you._ Volkoff could appreciate the attitude. "Good work. Now open the door so I can get what I came for."

The hacker pressed one key.

"Welcome to the Castle Mainframe Interface," said the computer's speaker in a pleasant female monotone. "How may I help you?"

* * *

"Who would hide a pig in an air duct?"

"We're under a Buy More, and you're asking that question?" Carina shook her head, amazed at somebody, really everybody. _You want to hide a pig, put it on a farm._ Suddenly her breath caught.

"What?"

"Where's your cooler?"

Hannah understood immediately. "This way."

The cooler was a storage unit for biological samples. It was also, in less fortunate times, a makeshift morgue. The small racks were empty, the big rack was not. Brody's body waited here, decently covered, until they could find his killer and send it home.

Carina reached out and pulled at the cloth, but she didn't have to pull it far. "Well. I think we can safely say Lewis is not our killer."

* * *

**A/N2** I had planned to wrap up The Muuurder with this chapter, but Frost's scene demanded I write it, so the killer goes free for now.

Bentley running into her Intersect room was completely craven and out of character, meant only to get them there so they could find the body. Not to mention the fact that the room's door was left conveniently open, with a monitor showing Ellie's face. A good mystery proceeds by intuitions and clever deductions, not blind luck and bad planning.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** I got a couple of comments that felt the story could use more narrative text, so I tried to do more of that. It's not easy for me, I'm more comfortable using dialog and action to do the narrative work as well. But these two episodes have four canon episodes condensed into them, all taking place at the same time in different places, so hopefully I've made the lines and scene transitions a little clearer.

* * *

"_Hello, Damian. How's the leg?"_

"_How can I threaten them if they can't even hear me?" _

"_No antidote to his toxin was ever developed." _

"_I think we can safely say Lewis is not our killer."_

* * *

"What do we do now?" asked Hannah, shivering from more than just the cold. Lewis had been garroted, from the look of him, his eyes wide and staring at her. She'd liked his eyes.

_We save Sarah._ Carina's mind wrapped itself around that one thought and squeezed out an image of Ellie, standing in her office in her hazmat suit. She would know what to do. They had to call Ellie. They had to call her now. "Simple. I end the lockdown, and we call it in, get them started on an antidote."

Hannah shook her head. Another agent who needed a leash, but her heart was in the right place. "You can't end the lockdown until you solve the murder."

Carina grabbed her by the Nerd Herder tie and pulled her in close. "I can't let Sarah die. Or…lose her mind, or whatever it is she's doing."

Hannah gripped Carina's hand, but she knew better than to try and fight back, at least not physically. "Half an hour isn't going to make any difference."

"You think we can solve this that fast?"

"You said you'd solve it before she got back," Hannah reminded her. "You're not bailing on that promise, are you?" Sarah wouldn't, and she bet Carina wouldn't either.

And she won_._ Carina'd never bailed on a promise, or welched on a bet, not even the one with the glitter that got just _every_where. Which is why she made very few promises, and a lot of bets.

Carina focused. She had to solve the murder. Both murders. "Grab that end of the cloth." They covered the two dead men together, but when they tried to leave the room, Carina was on point, gun ready.

For nothing. A crime of lost opportunity.

"You expected trouble?"

"The room had only one door," said Carina. Only one exit, and a killer somewhere on the other side of it. Lewis' last resting place may easily have been a trap, with him as the bait. "Better to expect trouble and not get it, than to get it when you don't expect it." Out into the hall. Check. Turn. Check.

Hannah imagined herself walking blindly into a hail of bullets, and shuddered. This was so not her thing. "Sound thinking. Not that a shootout was terribly likely."

Carina had released a few guns to the non-Lewises in the room, but limited the ammunition. The killer would have had do something more creative. Carina understood creative all too well. "What would you have done?"

Hannah had read the manual on the cooler, and knew what it could do. "I would have just blocked the door and turned the thermostat down."

Inefficient, but possibly effective. "Good thing the killer isn't as clever as either of us." Up the hall, to the first intersection, checking for tripwires all the way. They hadn't necessarily found all the bombs.

That sounded almost like a compliment. "Yes." It seemed to call for something more. "I'm glad you're here."

Carina tried to think of something positive for a response. "Good job with that vase, by the way."

Hannah lost a second, trying to figure out the apparent non sequitur. That night at the museum, another moment like this one, only more so. "Never again," she said. "I promised Sarah."

She wasn't ready to live in Sarah's world. _Our world_. "Yeah, well, all promises to Sarah are going to be null and void soon if we don't get a message out."

They had that much in common, at least. "My office is this way." Hannah started walking.

Carina ran to be ahead of her. "What good will that do us? We're in lockdown." The phones wouldn't work.

"Right," said Hannah, who'd managed to forget that. "But we can write an email and send it. The outbox will hold it until the lockdown is lifted, no matter when or how that happens. Even if we die first, Sarah will be safe."

"I like your plan better than mine," said Carina. "Let's do that."

"What was _your_ plan?"

"Shoot everybody and declare victory."

Hannah smiled at the overkill. "A bit drastic, don't you think?"

"One of these days I'll have to tell you the story of how Sarah and I first met," said Carina, deadly serious. "'Drastic' doesn't begin to cover it."

* * *

Meanwhile, up in the Buy More…

Volkoff's pet geek wasn't smirking any more. _"God damn it!"_

"I'm sorry, I didn't get that," said the computer for the umpteenth time, not sounding any sorrier than it had the first time. "Did you say 'cod gambit'?"

The red phone smashed on to the floor, joining a stapler, two once-damaged and now totally unrepairable radios, and the pencil cup. "No I didn't, you stupid machine!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't get that…"

The uproar drew the boss' attention. "Your inspired lack of success continues unabated, I see." He made an unhappy sigh. "I wanted the Piranha, you know, or maybe the Octopus, but try finding hackers of their caliber when they don't want to be found."

The geek nodded. His reputation was down there on the floor, right next to the first radio.

Volkoff made a hand gesture, and his team by the hidden elevator lit their torches. He glared at his employee. "You will wish you had remained in your grey, nameless cubicle in the private sector. Your incompetence has cost me dearly, but not nearly as much as it will soon cost you." He smiled, which only made the geek more nervous. "I will give you to Frost, right after I tell her who it was that condemned her to an additional quarter hour in CIA custody. On this you have the word of Alexei Volkoff."

"Voice print confirmed."

Both men looked down at the laptop.

* * *

Carina stood in the doorway of Hannah's office, watching as the other teams came back to the central meeting room. Hannah's fingers were rattling off keystrokes like machine-gun fire behind her. "Are you done yet?"

"Almost," said Hannah. "I've never written an eyes-only to a General before, just trying to be complete."

"She won't thank you."

"Well, duh."

"Sir," whispered the geek.

* * *

Volkoff looked up at him, and the geek made a talking gesture with his hand, pointing at the grill of the computer's microphone. "Say your name again."

He bent down and enunciated as clearly as any third-grade English teacher could have wished. "I am Alexei Volkoff."

"Greetings, Alexei Volkoff," said the C.M.I. in its bright, chipper monotone. "You are a wanted international criminal. The proper authorities have been notified. Please stay where you are until qualified personnel arrive to take you into custody. Your cooperation is appreciated. Have a nice day."

Authorities. Volkoff frowned at his underling.

"Hey, that's a good thing, right?" said the geek, terrified. "The proper authorities are right underneath us, aren't they? The computer just told them you were here, isn't that what you wanted?"

Volkoff rumbled thoughtfully. "You are correct." He grinned. "Now find me a phone so I can scare the pants off of them." He chuckled in anticipation.

The geek looked down at the smashed red phone at his feet, eager rictus grin fading.

* * *

The equipment in the back of the van made a rude noise, and Sarah got up to teach it some manners. "Chuck?"

"Yes?"

"We just got an automated alert from Castle. It says Alexei Volkoff is in the Buy More."

Warp factor five! "Two secretive Russian arms dealers on the same day?" _Sounds like an episode of 24._

"One with an armed nuclear weapon." She moved up behind his chair, so she wouldn't have to yell.

_Okay, a 24 mini-series. _"A bit of overkill, don't you think?"

Volkoff came for Frost, so Pichushkin came for Volkoff? "Half a city to get one man?"

"Not his city, is it? Volkoff's taken out a lot of the smaller fry over there. If Pichushkin could take _him_ out, he'd pretty much have the country to himself."

"A prize like that is worth the price of admission," mused Sarah. "Good thinking, sweetie. I'll send it to Beckman." She started to turn back to the encrypted transmitter.

"It was just a _thought_."

Sarah smiled, and kissed him on the cheek. "A Chuck Bartowski thought is worth ten facts from anyone else. The General knows this, even if you don't."

* * *

Somewhere else, at a small, nondescript airport…

An underling came out of the dark. "Colonel." He held out a slip of paper, folded and unread.

Casey took the letter and dismissed the bearer, before he opened and read it, with an suspicious grunt. "Since when did Castle get an automated alert system?"

Eager ears caught the word 'alert'. "Another mission, sir?"

"Not for you," said Casey, crushing the paper in his fist. He pointed to a very large, heavy, warning-covered box currently being loaded on to a transport. "You two are escorting a disarmed nuclear weapon to disposal, Captain. This is just some unpleasant family business. Give Director Bentley my regards." Without another word, he turned and left to hitch a ride up to Burbank.

* * *

Hannah stood up, her note properly documented, referenced, encrypted, and sent. They'd done all they could for Sarah, now they had to find a killer. As she left the room, a light started flashing on her desk, and a monitor lit.

Carina accepted Hannah's flash drive, and stuck it in her pocket absently. "Lady, Gentlemen. We found Lewis."

Everyone looked relieved, no one looked worried or surprised. "Unfortunately, he was dead, so we're back to square one, but with more clues, and fewer suspects."

Guns came out, two against one as Hannah's fiancé, unarmed, fled the field entirely.

"I know it wasn't me," said Josie, "But the two of you together maybe have a whole brain between you, so it had to be you."

"Ditto," said one of her opponents.

"Except that there's only one of you," said the other.

"Attention on deck!" shouted Hannah, and the two agents came immediately to attention, guns pointed safely at the floor. They both stared down the barrel of Josie's gun.

"Dammit."

"I hate it when she does that."

"Josie," said Carina, taking aim at the younger woman. "I'd be very careful about what I did right now, if I were you. You see, I know who the killer is."

Josie switched targets, pitting her two bullets against a lot more than two. "It wasn't me."

"Relax," said Carina. "I know that."

"Then why are you pointing your gun at me?"

"You have yours out and aimed, Agent."

Josie looked at her hands. "Oh." She lowered her weapon. "How did you know it wasn't me?"

"Something Hannah said earlier," said Carina, pulling her own arms in. "So far this killer has been very direct, but you don't _do_ 'direct'. You're psy-ops . You manipulate others to do your killing for you."

Josie didn't dispute the claim. "What about the bomb? That wasn't direct."

"If things had gone as planned, the bomb would have taken out all of us in the room, while the killer would have had time to kill Lewis and hide his body. Everyone left would assume Lewis was the killer and had somehow escaped, and ended the lockdown. By the time anybody knew differently the real killer would have been long gone."

Josie scoffed. "Have to be pretty stupid to buy that." Then her eyes widened.

"Exactly," said Carina.

"It's not polite to talk about people behind their backs, Agent Miller."

Everyone turned, guns coming up. A swarthy, bearded guy stood by a door, holding a boombox in one hand and a push-button in the other.

"Hello, Damian," said Carina. "How's the leg?"

"I told you, it's not going to stop me walking out of this place."

"And I told you–"

"Blast doors, yes, I remember. So I thought–" he pushed a button on his box and panels flipped out, revealing blocks of explosives, and a timer "–how about we test those doors?"

"They don't have to be stronger than that bomb, Damian," said Carina with a smirk. "They just have to be stronger than you, and I doubt you're that eager to die."

Hannah chimed in. "All you ever really wanted was to blow the place and get away, but Brody caught you and you had to kill him to buy time."

Damian smirked back. "Don't give up your day job, Watson. I planned all along to kill Brody."

Hannah blinked. "You did?"

"But he was so nice," said Josie.

"Please, all that touchy-feely crap made my skin crawl." Damian shuddered dramatically. "If I had to kill somebody, I wanted it to be him. Fortunately he's as predictable as he is eco-friendly. Practically walked onto my knife."

"But why did you have to kill him?" asked Hannah's other half. "Why did you have to kill _any_body?"

Damian kept quiet. He might still get his chance, if they didn't know.

"He needed a murder," said Carina.

"How can you _need_ a murder?"

"Because we were his target," said Carina, pointing at herself. "Not even us, just Sarah. He hasn't even _tried_ to kill me, except incidentally. A murder in a CIA base would have, should have, brought the most senior CIA agent on site to investigate, where he could kill her and presumably escape. There was only one thing wrong with his little plan."

"It didn't work?"

"Oh, it worked. But he didn't know Sarah had to recuse herself, or that she would lock us all in. He had only one chance, and when that failed, he found himself caught in his own trap and had to use the bomb just to get out."

"What chance did he have?" asked the fiancé.

"He called her out," said Hannah, remembering everything Damian and Sarah had done together, which wasn't much. "He threw a tantrum, and called her a swimsuit model. Probably hoped she'd go chasing after him when he stormed out. Remember she wanted to?"

"I remember," put in Carina. "Very _symptomatic_, don't you think?"

"Wait," said Josie, unaware of the sub-text. "She goes chasing after him, he kills her, blows her up, whatever. How does he get away with that? Even these two could have solved that."

"You bet we could have."

"We don't have to wonder, just look at what he did," said Carina, pointing at Damian's bandaged leg. "A piece of metal in the leg, with no blood anywhere but pooled underneath? Guess you don't get 'Dexter' in that cave of yours, do you, Damian?"

Hannah cringed. "You stabbed yourself?"

"Whoa!"

"Bold move!"

"I had to do something!" shouted Damian. "The bomb missed all of you but at least I could divert suspicion from me."

"Yes, very professional," said Carina, rolling her eyes. "So the only real question is–"

"You want to know why?" asked Damian.

"Well, money, would be my guess," said Carina. "Why else try to kill someone you don't know? No, the question I have is how. How did you know we were coming?" She gestured imperatively with her gun when he said nothing. "Who told you, Damian?"

"Volkoff?" said Hannah.

"What?"

Hannah pointed. Her monitor showed a man, standing at the Nerd Herd desk upstairs, shouting into a red phone, the words 'Alexay Volkoff' blinking on the screen.

"What's Alexei Volkoff doing in the Buy More?" said Carina.

"Three guesses," said Agent 'Simple'.

She took one, and put it back. "This makes no sense."

"Figure it out on your own time, Sherlock, I got a plane to catch." Damian brandished his weapon and the detonator. "You gonna open the door or what?"

Josie shot him in the arm. "'What', traitor."

Agent Simple lunged for the bomber, tripping his partner as he lunged for the bomb. He flopped onto the floor, his hands just covering the area where the box landed. At least the box didn't break.

"Good catch," said Carina over his yelling. "You hurt your arm?"

"No," said Simple, "He's saying it's armed, it's armed!"

Hannah scooped it up and checked the readout. "Less than a minute!"

Carina grabbed it but Hannah didn't let go. "Follow me!" Together they ran, Hannah mostly just holding up her end while trying to keep pace.

Frost looked up as they raced into the cell block. Carina hit the door switch while Hannah danced impatiently right outside. As the door opened both women tried to slip through it in opposite directions at the same time.

"You, out!" shouted Carina, grabbing for Frost's arm and pulling her out of the cell and out of the way. "You, in!"

Hannah put the bomb on the bed, not gently, and Carina hit the switch. Together they grabbed Frost's arms as they hauled each other out of the sturdiest place in Castle.

* * *

The ground heaved, overpriced consumer goods fell from shelves, lights flickered, as overheated air spewed from concealed vents. Volkoff, not being from around there, stumbled and started to fall, but his pet geek caught him on the way down.

The billionaire arms dealer and international criminal did not sully his dignity on the floor of an American retail establishment. "I will allow you to live." Provided Frost still lived, of course. If she didn't, no one would live.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get that," said the CMI.

One of the tanks in the aisle tipped over in the havoc, and the valve split on the floor. Pressurized gas spewed out of a small opening, launching the metal cylinder through the doors of the back room. The tank lodged in the wall, shooting its contents into the loading bay where they ignited on a stray flame, blocking the rear exits with a giant torch.

Volkoff stood tall, brushing dust from his coat casually as his men stumbled out of the back room into the front, one of them inexplicably carrying a pig. He looked out the front door, apparently the only exits left, but the crowd of gawkers had finally fled. _Americans_. "Open the door," he told his hacker, fairly certain the task would be within the man's limited abilities, and he was not wrong.

His men raced while their master strolled, unconcerned, from the store into the parking lot, where all was deceptively quiet. Volkoff knew it wouldn't stay that way long, once the throng of voyeuristic thrill-seekers got over their fear of imminent death. Frost had to be around here somewhere. They couldn't stay in Castle now, and no one builds a base with just one exit.

A column of fire shot up into the sky, from the chimney of a nearby restaurant, the Orange Orange.

"Interesting," said Volkoff to his agent. "Let's go there."

* * *

**A/N2** One of my favorite scenes in the Muuurder episode was Bentley's reaction, kneeling in the Intersect room, waiting for the bomb to explode. She'd spent the whole episode being a bitch, but her sacrifice and her obvious terror really humanized her at the end. When I like a scene like that I try to avoid stepping on it in my stories.

The reference to the Octopus is a shout-out to Anthropocene's own post-finale series of stories, including Chuck vs. The Amber Alert.

There are, BTW, a number of other shout-out's in these last two episodes, some of which are obvious and others of which are not.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N** This one runs kind of long but the semi-fluffy scene with Beckman just demanded I write it.

This is a test of the early Volkoff threat warning system. This is only a test. If this were a real Volkoff threat, you would run screaming into the night.

* * *

"_What do we do now?"_

"_Alexei Volkoff is in the Buy More." _

"_He needed a murder." _

"_Let's go there."_

* * *

Dimmed lights. Emergency power.

Air foul with dust, explosive residue, and the stink of burnt plastic, the slightest revenge of a cell door that had quite literally given its all to protect those without from that which was within. If she breathed in through her noise she caught the stench. If she breathed in through her mouth she got the dust and coughed. Nothing to be done for it, she couldn't just breathe _out_.

They hadn't been able to run very far from the blast, the halls weren't straight, but the effects of the explosion were vastly reduced by all the corners, so she was more than willing to make that trade. The shock wave still knocked them off their feet, but only the smallest particles had ridden it after them. She felt them under her hands, as she braced herself to rise. Dust fell in her eyes, so she closed them and shook her head to get the worst of it out.

She took only a small step when she felt something close tight around her ankle. Frost looked down. Carina had a firm hold and didn't look ready to let go.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I said I had to try, Agent. I didn't say I had to try very hard."

* * *

Carina took a quick head count when she got back to the main room, coming up a couple short. "Anybody have eyes on Damian?"

Agent 'Simple' smiled. "We got better than that, Agent Miller. We got a whole _body_ on him." He pointed down. His partner lay stunned across Damian's legs, pinning the murderer's body down very effectively.

"Well, what are you just standing there for?" said Hannah. "Get him up, if you can. We have to evacuate." Even if the base was still structurally sound, the dust and fumes could be a health hazard. Her fiancé moved without any prompting to help lift the man. "Josie, get the box from the infirmary, we'll take it with us." She pointed at Damian's bleeding arm. "You put that bullet hole in him, you can patch it up. These guys don't need the practice."

"If they could shoot better they wouldn't get so much," said Josie, on her way out.

Carina watched two men help a third over to the stairs. "That bad, huh?"

"They're getting better," said Hannah. She went into her office, initiated the suicide switches, and rummaged in a drawer or two. "I put her in there with them at range practice, and they try to impress her."

"Clever."

"So you're the reason," said Frost. "We were wondering how this base had become so much more effective."

Hannah came back out with a small satchel, and brushed some hair from her eyes. "_Now_ you tell me."

"Don't worry, Hannah," said Carina, giving Frost a shake. "With such a ringing endorsement I'm sure they'll rebuild."

"She's wasted here," said Frost. "I can see that, if you can't."

"How about you shut your trap or I'll find out if that stapler over there still works." Carina turned to Hannah. "Frost here could give Josie lessons."

"Lessons in what?" asked Josie, coming back with a large box with a red cross on it.

"Creative embellishment."

Josie's face hardened. "I've already made my opinion clear on traitors," she said, reaching down with Hannah to lift Damian to his feet. He yelled at the pain in his arm. "Oops."

Frost gave her a little salute, but wisely said nothing.

"Let's get going," said Carina.

The men had a head start but the women had a lighter burden, so they all reached the upper landing at about the same time. Carina placed her hand against the screen and the overhead light turned green.

"I thought you said you was locked in with us," said Simple.

"I never said I didn't have the key," said Carina, fog blooming as she pushed open the door. "I may not be as good a liar as Frost here but I have my moments."

Click. Click. Click.

Everyone stopped, even the non-agents recognizing the distinctive sound of hammers being unnecessarily cocked. Three men had them sighted in. The laser lights in the fog showed Carina whose chest they were all sighted in on, too.

"Yes," said Alexei Volkoff, as he stepped forward to pluck Frost from Carina's grasp. "We all have our little gifts."

* * *

In the middle of the night, a cell phone beeped, a peculiar beep with a specific meaning. The woman whose phone it was woke immediately, her body long since accustomed to the occasional disturbance at odd hours. Diane Beckman picked up her phone and squinted at the screen, searching for the item that had set off her alert.

Four items, in fact, but only one had been encrypted and sent eyes-only. What the hell was going on out there?

Her bed-partner rolled over. "The vicissitudes of life intrude, my darling?"

She sighed. "Team Bartowski is in California."

He threw off the covers. "I'll make coffee."

"Oh, go back to sleep, Roan. No reason for both of us to suffer."

"True suffering is in the time we are apart, my love," he said smoothly, lifting her hand to his lips. "I would waste none of the little we get together, even if it is on the wrong side of three time zones."

General Beckman (she was on duty now, even if her robe lacked any stars) went to her office, sealing the door as required by protocol. She plugged in her phone, and called up the retinal scan app as she accessed her secure email. She read the letter through twice. Clear, concise, and lucid after two murders and an explosion, even though the woman who wrote it knew nothing about the subject matter. She was wasted in that backwater. If the CIA didn't make her a better offer, she'd make one herself.

Casey _and_ Sarah. Was Frost really trying to help, or just casting doubt on their mental states? She'd have to read Director Bentley's note first, and play it by ear after that. For now, she had to assume the worst.

She pressed a button on her other monitor. "Eleanor Bartowski." The screen popped up a progress bar. Back to the first monitor. "Mr. Clark." His screen popped up a bar too, but it vanished almost immediately. _No one sleeps tonight._ "Send two cars, Mr. Clark. One for me, one for Doctor Bartowski."

He nodded, and popped off, just as the other monitor lit, with Ellie caught in mid-yawn.

"Yes, General?"

"I'm sending a car and a secure message. I need you in your lab, Doctor. When you get in I expect you to tell me what else you may need."

Physician reflexes kicked in, and Ellie was fully awake. "I'll be ready, General."

"I know you will." A soft knock on the door, and Beckman clicked the connection closed automatically, cursing herself silently as it went black. _Ellie hates it when I do that._ She'd have to make it up to her somehow. She closed down all of her screens so she could unlock the door and admit that blessed, blessed coffee. And Roan.

* * *

Volkoff looked Frost over with a concerned and critical eye. "Did they treat you well, my love?"

_My love?_ Carina's mind went blank as she tried to process the incredible claim. Did Volkoff really love her? Could he? And did she love him back? Chuck would freak. Is that why she was gone all those–

"I'm fine, Alexei, although the seats in their interrogation rooms could use a bit more padding."

"You've eaten?"

"The same food they ate, so I can't complain."

Carina watched her body language, listened to her voice. This woman had never been anywhere near Volkoff.

Frost held out her hand. "Agent Miller?"

Carina handed over her gun.

"Excellent. Out." Carina and her group walked out of the freezer slowly. She walked to the end of the counter and pressed her fingers against the surface, knowing what was coming. The rest did likewise, as best they could, while Volkoff strolled out to the dining area and sat patiently.

Frost looked her underlings. "You, search them," she said, pointing at the men next to Carina. "You," she continued, pointing at Volkoff's blonde agent, "Search the ladies. And remember, don't cause trouble unless they cause trouble first."

Volkoff just watched her take charge, as if escaping from a cell was something she did every day. "What about that one?" he asked, indicating Damian.

"He's an assassin and a bomber, who was stupid enough to get caught. What do you want me to do with him?"

"I've had my fill of bungling incompetents for one night," said Volkoff. "On the other hand, I suppose it was his bomb that brought us to this pass, so perhaps I owe him a spot of gratitude."

Damian grinned, turning slightly to backhand Josie across the face. "Oops."

Frost stepped forward and brought her gun down on the wound in his arm. As he shrieked in pain, she kneed him between the legs and slammed his head against the counter as he bent double.

"Or not," said Volkoff.

"She's worth ten of you," said Frost as he sank down to kneel at her feet.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, bitch, you'll be on the ground soon enough," yelled Damian. "You'll be under it. Wait 'til I tell your boyfriend all about your little conversation with these two agents."

"A conversation?" asked Alexei, coming over to see the man behind the counter. "What about?"

Frost put her pistol down in front of her boss, as she lifted her accuser to his feet. "Well, you heard him."

"No need to be in such a rush," said Volkoff. "I'm keen to guess. Could she perhaps have told her jailers how she was deep under cover, working alone and in the dark to destroy me? Hmm?" Volkoff laughed at Damian's expression. "She's told that story before."

"Has she told the story about her CIA _son_, and his CIA _wife_?"

The room went silent. Everyone looked at Frost, except Volkoff. He looked at Carina. "No," he said, reaching out a hand to claim Frost's gun. "I've not heard that one before. We shall have to discuss this at length. Elsewhere." He nodded to the blonde. "Get the car."

Volkoff believed in travelling in style, Frost knew, but he considered stretch limos to be garish. "And the prisoners?" No way they'd all fit, and Volkoff wasn't known for leaving witnesses behind.

He looked at her apologetically. "I had hoped to torture them in front of you, until the memory of those long hours in captivity had become a distant thing. I know how you appreciate the little romantic gestures. But now, all I can offer is an incompetent hacker, and I've already promised him he'd live. Can you forgive me? I gave my word."

"Do you keep your word?" asked Hannah quickly.

Volkoff looked at the diminutive brunette, growling at her insults. She paled, but stood her ground. "I am Volkoff," he roared. "Lying is for lesser men."

Frost nodded.

"Okay, then, Volkoff," said Hannah, voice quavering just a bit. "I've got a deal for you."

He waved the gun around an situation firmly under his control. "And why should I make a deal?"

Hannah reached into her bag. "Because I've got this." She held up a red triangular floppy disk.

One of his men snatched it from her hand. "And now I've got it," said Volkoff.

"Yes, but there's only one reader in the country and you don't know where it is," said Hannah. "And I do. You let them live and I'll take you there."

* * *

Chuck didn't even have the van fully parked behind the Orange Orange before Sarah was out the door. The scanner wasn't hidden any more, but it wasn't a scanner anymore either. Someone had ripped it out of the wall and wired in a laptop in its place. She pressed Enter.

"Welcome to the Castle Mainframe Interface. How may I help you?"

She groaned in the back of her throat. "Chuck!"

* * *

The limo was more comfortable, but the van had room for more people so Volkoff had commandeered that instead. The hacker drove, something else within his capacity, while the blonde agent attended to Damian's wounded arm, none too gently. Volkoff turned in his seat, to look at his captive audience (his favorite kind), huddled uncomfortably on the bare metal floor. The young man who'd insisted that Hannah not ride into danger without him moved in front, as if trying to shield her from his very gaze.

Ah, young love. Such a tragedy it can be, at times.

"If you are expecting assistance to come riding out the sunset at the last minute, Miss Hannah, I'm afraid you will be disappointed." He'd left her friends alive as agreed, but not able, and no one else knew where they were. "Castle is impregnable." She put up a brave front, but he'd seen lots of those, and knew how quickly and easily they could fall. Breaking them was one of his chief joys.

The night was young.

* * *

Chuck came around to the back door. "What's up, Sarah?"

She stood back, gesturing harshly at the machine, rather than hurling it into the next county as she wanted. "All it says is 'identify yourself for access' but then it doesn't recognize anything I say."

Chuck smiled. "Sounds like a great security program, as long as you don't mind nobody getting inside."

"It's not funny, Chuck. We need to get inside."

"Your wish is my command." He pressed Enter.

"Welcome to the Castle Mainframe Interface. How may I help you?"

"Agent Charles Charles."

"I'm sorry, I didn't get that. Did you say cage of mars bars?"

Sarah pounded the side of the van. "You see?"

"Hmmm." Chuck cracked his knuckles, flexed his fingers dramatically. "This looks like a job for the Piranha."

"Voice print confirmed."

The door buzzed.

* * *

Volkoff looked disconsolately at his number one. "You didn't trust me around your family?"

Frost shook her head. "I didn't trust me. He's my one weakness, so I keep him as far away as possible. There's no room for weakness in a multinational criminal empire, or family, especially when they're in the CIA."

"I'll prove you wrong, someday," said Alexei, firmly. "Kids _love_ me. Your kids would love me too."

"My son would arrest us both on sight."

Volkoff raised a fist, but not in anger. "He knows his duty, that shows you raised him right. I love him already!"

"Alexei…"

* * *

"Carina!"

Shouting her name did no good. Shaking her availed them nothing. Chuck noticed the medical kit. "Sarah, check the box! See if there's one of those allergy pens in it. It's on the list and it's basically adrenaline."

Someone had really tossed this box around. "If it's on the list Hannah would stock it." Sarah started rummaging. "Here we go." She handed it over. "Will it work?"

"It can't hurt," said Chuck, preparing the device. He pushed it against her leg and counted to ten. Then he sat back. "Now we wait."

Sarah grabbed Carina by the shoulder and shook her harder.

"…kill me now…" whimpered the redhead suddenly. Tranq antagonists in any form were no fun.

"Carina! What happened? Where are the others?" asked Sarah.

"…Volkoff…took Hannah…she had a disk, red…" Her fingers made a triangle shape.

Chuck fumbled in his pocket. "Like this?" he asked, holding up the disk Tuttle had given him.

Eventually Carina focused on it. "Yeah."

Chuck looked up at his wife. "I let her have a disk from Dad's basement, it was corrupt. She wanted to practice retrieving the data from it. Volkoff must think she has this one. When they find out it's blank who knows what he'll do."

Sarah raised her hand, so did Carina.

"That was a rhetorical question, guys, all right?" said Chuck. "They'll need a reader."

"Hannah," said Carina, at the end of her strength. "…bargain…"

Sarah looked at all the unconscious agents. "She's taking him to the reader," she said, proud, terrified, and appalled. "She traded herself and a bad disk for everyone else."

"It's twenty minutes do get there, at least."

"Not when I'm driving." Sarah pulled out a gun and stuck it in Carina's hand, while Chuck lifted up her head and put a folded pad under it.

The movement and the metal roused Carina. She called out, "Sarah!" but they were already out the door. Curse her drugged body, she wasn't fast enough.

* * *

Chuck clutched on to the seat with one hand and braced himself against the dashboard with the other. Sarah was driving as if they were late for Ellie's pot roast. "So, uh…what's the plan?"

"Well," Sarah mused thoughtfully, "I was thinking I could go in there, explain the situation, appeal to their sense of justice, while pointing out the inevitable futility of their actions."

Chuck nodded. "Or…?"

"Or," she continued, "In a few minutes this quiet little neighborhood will be Armageddon."

* * *

They parked in the driveway. "Stay here," said Volkoff to his hacker. "If you try to run away, I'll let her track you down, and your continued existence will be questionable. Is that clear?"

The poor geek nodded.

"And you two," said Volkoff to his hostages. "His fate will be yours, tenfold."

Frost examined the man she was supposed to torture. "What's your deal?"

"Couldn't hack the base," he admitted. "Some stupid security program…"

"The mainframe Interface?" she asked, and he nodded. "Go home. I couldn't beat it either." The geek looked stunned, but not so stunned he didn't take her up on her offer.

Volkoff heard Hannah's young man whisper, "I can live with that." His face darkened with anger. "You are magnanimous, my love."

"Just prudent," said Frost, hefting a large duffel. "We have to be fair to our employees, otherwise we won't have any. Save the torture for the customers, especially when they try to cheat you."

"And they're always trying to cheat me," grumbled Volkoff. "Very well, let's get on with this."

Hannah put her thumb to the lock and flipped the light switch, allowing the group to descend into the darkened cellar.

Volkoff gazed at the racks of boxes, the dust-covered gear. "Well, well, well. Quite the busy beaver."

"The reader's over here," said Hannah. As she led them over to the machine, Frost set her bag down and slipped away. Damian had learned his lesson, leaving Hannah to the blonde while he loomed over Hannah's guy. She fed the disk into the slot, and the verdict was quickly returned. Unreadable.

"So, Hannah" said Volkoff. "You cheated."

She nodded.

* * *

Chuck and Sarah crept down the stairs, alert for any sounds that might reveal a trap. In perfect synchronization, they swung into the room, his tranq pistol covering everything her deadlier weapon didn't. No one was there, but now they could hear the sounds, see the movements of someone in the stacks, and they crept forward. Volkoff's voice. They were about to move in when a sound from the other side of the room made them stop. Frost, it had to be, and Sarah had to choose. Chuck tended to trust his mother more than he should, but she had a weapon that would very likely kill at close range.

She heard Volkoff's voice. "So, Hannah…"

She chose. With a gesture she sent Chuck after his mother.

* * *

"Fortunately for me, the disk was never my objective. This base must be destroyed, like everything that was ever Orion's. He haunts me, you see, he tasks me, and I must eradicate every trace of him."

"And us? Now you kill us?"

"You're trying to provoke me into giving you a quick and easy death," said Volkoff, smiling. He touched her cheek, and she twitched away. "The CIA has wasted you shamefully, but what do you expect from a government agency? I, on the other hand, am a businessman, and I am making you a better offer."

"I refuse."

"You haven't heard the offer yet," said Volkoff softly, holding her gaze. He moved in close, blocking her view of anything that wasn't him. "You will work for me, quickly, efficiently, and well, but above all, loyally." His voice lowered, rumbled in her ears, drowning out the sound of anyone that wasn't him. "For if you don't, I will have your boyfriend here tortured to death before your eyes. Then you will be tortured, but not to death. When I am done, your crippled body will be _mailed_ back to your precious CIA, as a warning to all who would ever cross swords with Alexei Volkoff. Is. That. Clear?"

* * *

Sarah swung into the aisle behind him. Click. "Very clear."

Hannah sank to her knees, shuddering.

Chuck's voice cried out in pain. "Aahh! What have you done?" Sarah turned, just a little.

Volkoff swung, Frost's gun in hand, catching Sarah on the side of the head, sending her down to the floor. With a quick gesture he signed his team to stay with the prisoners, while he went off after Frost alone.

"Tuttle?" quavered a voice.

"My name," came their boss' voice, dark with a rage that finally had a target. "Is Alexei Volkoff. I understand you've been looking for me." Flesh met flesh, once, and then there was silence.

Frost and Volkoff came back, dragging Chuck's limp body. "Not nearly the foe I'd hoped he would be," said Volkoff in disgust. He looked up at his agents. "Take those two away! We'll teach Mr. Charles here not to interfere with his betters." He turned to Frost. "Find me some chairs. I'll tie them while you get started with the explosives."

* * *

Casey caught the two traitors as they forced the two analysts out of the house, hitting each with a tranq dart to the back. The two prisoners jumped as he stepped from the shadows. "Two American traitors going to work for that Commie. Disgusting."

Hannah finally passed out.

Casey walked up to them. "You gonna faint too?" he asked, trying to provoke a little anger, something to get him past the obvious terror. _Must be Hell inside that house._

The younger man took the bait and shook his head, unable to speak.

"Good." Casey scooped Hannah up off the ground. "I hotwired her Nerd Herder. Let's get you two inside and locked down."

* * *

Volkoff turned at the door, looking back at his defeated adversaries as they sat there, glaring impotently. "I can't believe that we took him to be such a threat."

"This is too easy," said Frost. She walked back around the prisoners for a last check. "Aha!" she exclaimed triumphantly. She knelt down behind Sarah. "You've cemented my cover beautifully," she whispered. "Thank you." She pressed a blade into Sarah's hand even as she pulled off a fingernail. "A fake nail, with a razor edge."

She went back to Volkoff and handed it to him. "She was already cutting at the ropes."

Volkoff grinned at her. "So she's the super-agent?"

"Exactly. He's just a face."

Volkoff snorted. "A dead face." He turned, and led the way up the stairs.

* * *

"Freeze, Commie!" shouted Casey as Frost and Volkoff crossed the lawn. "Federal agent!" His targets shared a glance. "On the ground, now!"

They were more than happy to comply.

This simple obedience made Casey suspicious. He carefully checked all points before moving to secure the prisoners.

Chuck and Sarah came barreling out of the house, not at all watching who was in their way. Then the house exploded, like a little piece of Hell on Earth, or more likely a couple of dozen Thermite TH1 grenades planted in the basement.

"Chuck, are you okay?"

"Yeah," said Casey. "Top notch." He pushed them off, but of course his two targets were gone. "Why didn't you stop 'em?"

"My mother did something to me in there, Sarah," said Chuck, ignoring him. "I can't flash."

"How can that happen, Chuck?" asked Sarah, looking into his eyes, his beautiful brown eyes. "Even Ellie couldn't take the skills away."

"It was in a box, something my father made." He clutched her hand like a lifeline as she helped him stand. "I feel so strange. How did she know it was there, Sarah? What did it do, and how did she know it would do it?" He looked at the house, the pyre. "Everything…"

Mother or no mother, the kid gloves were off. "I don't know Chuck, but I swear to you I'm going to track her down and get those answers." _Whatever I have to do, and whoever I have to do it to._

* * *

**A/N2** Uh-oh, Sarah's going a little dark. Has her Chuck been threatened one too many times? Or was she always been a little dark?

I have little use for Seduction Impossible in this series, but Roan got to make an appearance anyway, in a slightly more romantic role.

Quick question: Do you think the threat Volkoff made was a little harsh for a K-rated story?


End file.
